


Ready For This (Catch Me If You Can: One-shot #8)

by afterthenovels



Series: Catch Me If You Can verse [9]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Catch Me If You Can verse, M/M, Oneshot, white collar au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5435300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterthenovels/pseuds/afterthenovels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Anonymous prompted:</b> God, it’d be so awesome if you could write the scene where Kurt proposes to Blaine?</p><p>
  <em>“I was the one who asked you,” Blaine counters, teasingly.</em>
</p><p><em>“No, you just thought about it and made vague references to it after I came back,” Kurt corrects him. “I was the one who actually brought it up first and who got down on one knee and proposed.”</em> (<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1406542">x</a>)</p><p>Set between chapter 22 and the epilogue of the main story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready For This (Catch Me If You Can: One-shot #8)

**Author's Note:**

> This one is dedicated to [blackrose1002](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002) and [flowerfan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan), whose lovely comments about this verse have kept me writing, even after all this time. Thank you so much to both of you. ♥

They’re having a rare morning stroll before both of them have to go to work when Blaine suddenly halts in front of a shop window, pulling Kurt to a stop as well. Usually Blaine would have to be at the office at this hour already, but he had a late stake-out last night and was allowed to have a slow morning today, something Kurt will always cherish. It’s much nicer to have the time to have breakfast with his boyfriend, to drink coffee together at the kitchen table and let Perry have the leftovers, than it is to wake up to Blaine brushing a kiss against his forehead before he rushes out the door with his briefcase in hand.

“Hold on, there’s something I want to look at,” Blaine murmurs, moving closer to the window.

Kurt smiles and follows him easily, breathing in the crispy morning air. He’s been back in New York for a few weeks already, but it still gives him a thrill to know that this time he’s staying for good. There are no cons or crimes waiting for him on the other side of the world, no running away until he has no idea what place to call home. He’s free, he has a job –- a legal job -– and a home. If someone had told him when he was still rotting in prison, staring at the wall in his cell, that he would one day feel this happy, this excited about life again, he would have scoffed and turned away.

It’s funny how completely his life has changed since he said yes to one Blaine Anderson.

Blaine, who is currently staring at the shop window with a small, soft smile, the strong wind ruffling his gelled curls. Kurt follows the line of his sight, blinking his eyes in surprise when he sees what’s on display at the window. Somewhere under all his layers he can feel his heart skip a beat.

“Blaine?” he manages to squeak out.

Blaine only hums in answer, not taking his eyes off the jewelry store window, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Blaine... Those are engagement rings,” Kurt says slowly, tugging at Blaine’s hand to get his attention. He feels warm all of a sudden, like he’s blushing, and his voice sounds all funny, breathy and confused and even higher than usual.

“Have you ever thought about what kind of a ring you would want?” Blaine asks casually, leaning even closer to the window, his nose practically pressed against the glass.

“W-what?” Kurt asks.

“Like... golden or silver,” Blaine explains and squeezes Kurt’s hand. “Thick or thin. Jewels or no jewels. Engraving or no engraving. That sort of thing?”

Kurt looks between Blaine’s face and the rings in the window. He imagines having a ring on his finger, a matching one on Blaine’s, imagines feeling its weight every minute of every day, imagines holding Blaine’s hand and feeling the cold surface of the ring slotted against their skin. Imagines everyone looking at him, looking at Blaine, looking at them together, and just knowing from that small piece of metal that they’re taken, that they’re an item, together through everything.

“Silver,” he says unexpectedly.

Blaine nods in agreement. “It is somehow classier than golden.”

“Not too thick,” Kurt goes on, “but... enough to be visible, you know?”

Blaine nods again, glancing at Kurt with a smile. Kurt bites his lip. He hasn’t really thought about these things since high school when he had whole albums dedicated to wedding plans, to tuxes and bridesmaid dresses and decorations, the other man always a faceless mannequin. He thought he had forgotten all those dreams already, during his years on the run, but suddenly he remembers exactly what sort of a ring he imagined having on his finger when he was sixteen and the world seemed rough but somehow so much simpler. When getting through the day didn’t mean running from the law but running from ignorant bullies, and when those albums full of wedding plans were one of his escapes.

“An engraving on the inside,” he adds. “With the date, and our names. Nothing else -– those small hearts some people get would just be tacky, somehow? I mean, go for it if you like it, but I don’t know...”

“No, I agree.” Blaine is still nodding, his eyes going from one set of rings to another. “Names and date are enough. No emojis needed,” he adds with a grin. “Would you want diamonds or something, though?”

Kurt scrunches his nose. “No, I don’t think so. I want something simple. I’ve seen enough diamonds to last a lifetime already.”

“And stolen quite many as well,” Blaine teases, bumping his shoulder against Kurt’s.

Kurt shrugs with a grin of his own. “That too.” He straightens his back from where he’s been crouching in front of the window. “What... What about you? What kind of a ring would you want?” he asks hesitantly.

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to ask, if Blaine was just curious about his preferences –- or if they’re even having a serious conversation. It’s 9AM on a Wednesday morning, and he doesn’t really think these sort of talks are supposed to happen in the middle of the morning rush when they’re on their way to work -– but hey, Blaine asked him, he might as well ask him back.

Blaine looks down for a moment, his cheeks a little pink, and then points at one pair of rings in the window, placed on a little white pedestal so that they’re clearly visible to anyone who walks past.

“Like that,” he says in a quiet voice.

Kurt leans closer again. The rings are silver, simple with nothing but a thin, shinier border going around the top and the bottom, with the middle part looking more matte between them. One of the rings is a slightly darker shade of silver, subtly and barely noticeable, still matching the other perfectly. It would look lovely against the tone of Blaine’s skin, while the lighter one would be perfect for Kurt’s own paleness. The rings obviously don’t have an engraving yet, and they don’t have any diamonds either, and the width looks just perfect –- both discreet and visible.

They’re perfect in every single way, and Kurt has to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out. “They’re... They look exactly like I imagined they would.”

Blaine smiles, looking pleased as he steps away from the window. “Come on,” he says and tugs at Kurt’s hand. “We’ll be late for work.”

 

\---

 

“One of our probies is getting married in a few months,” Blaine announces a few days later when they’re having dinner at home -– chicken and asparagus with a bottle of cheap wine. They could afford the expensive kind, at least as an occasional indulgence, but Kurt has grown quite fond of cheap wine. He has drunk enough expensive wine to last a lifetime as well.

“Oh?” he comments, cutting his chicken in smaller bites. “That’s nice.”

Blaine swallows. “She invited the whole White Collar Division.”

Kurt pauses. “The whole _division_?” he repeats. “Not just your team or–-”

“Nope,” Blaine says, popping the last sound of the word. “The whole division. Higher-ups and all. And plus-ones as well.”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Does she even know all of those people?”

“Well, she probably knows what they all look like, from division meetings and such, but I don’t think she _knows them_ knows them.” Blaine scrunches his nose in thought. “I don’t think she even knows everyone in our team that well. She hasn’t been with us for that long, and Michael just got back from paternity leave and Sandhya got a job in D.C., but she still invited both of them.”

“Sandhya is going to D.C.?” Kurt asks. “That’s great.” He remembers Sandhya from his days as a CI –- she was one of the few agents who were nice to him right from the start, and the one who even told him where they kept the secret stash of good coffee in the office. He still thinks that the regular FBI office coffee should be sealed in the evidence basement for all eternity. That stuff is just vile.

Blaine smiles. “Yeah, she’s really excited. She has family there, so everything kind of worked out.”

Kurt points at him with his fork. “Okay, but back to your overly social probie -– she really invited everyone?”

Blaine nods. “Even Peterson, though I don’t think he’s coming. Apparently she and her fiancé are having a big wedding.”

“A huge wedding, more like it,” Kurt mutters with a grimace. “Your division alone could fill up a whole church.”

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them chewing their food. Blaine looks like he’s lost in his thoughts, his brows furrowed as he spears a piece of asparagus with his fork. Perry flops down onto her side on the floor next to the table where she has been lying ever since they started eating. She even lets out a deep sigh; a clear sign that she’s finally given up on them accidentally dropping food on the floor and gone to sleep instead.

“You wouldn’t want a big wedding then?” Blaine eventually asks, his eyes fixed on Kurt, genuinely curious.

Kurt stops and blinks his eyes, his fork frozen in the air, halfway to his mouth. “I... I don’t know,” he says slowly. “I used to dream about huge weddings and turning the occasion into a whole spectacle, but...” He trails off.

“But what?” Blaine prompts and nudges his foot with his own under the table.

“But those dreams seem kind of silly now.” Kurt places his utensils on the table and wipes his mouth, considering how to express his thoughts. “I don’t want a spectacle anymore. I... Having a spectacle would just mean dozens of people asking me where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing with my life, and I don’t want to explain my past deeds to some random acquaintance who has no idea what I’ve been through.”

Blaine’s mouth twitches with a small, sad smile.

“Besides,” Kurt goes on, “I want my wedding to be about me and my partner, about us, not about some flashy decorations or the number of people we invite. I want it to be a celebration of us and our love, not of how many people we happen to know. Especially when...” He pauses and shrugs. “Especially when I don’t even know that many people that I would be comfortable inviting to my wedding.”

Blaine leans over the table and takes Kurt hand in his, stroking his thumb slowly over his knuckles, soothing and healing. “Who would you want to invite?” he asks, his voice low.

Kurt takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, giving the question some thought. “A few people from Vogue,” he says slowly, “the ones I’ve become close with. Like Isabelle, and three or four others. And a few people from the FBI.”

He stops, pursing his lips. Those people are the easy ones, the ones with no difficult emotional baggage.

“Rachel and Santana, obviously,” he adds, and then lets out a small laugh. “And I already know what sort of dresses they should wear. They just can’t be trusted to dress themselves sometimes, even if they have both gotten better with it over the years.”

Blaine smiles.

Kurt blinks his eyes a few times. “Finn would be my best man, of course,” he says, smiling a little as he imagines calling Finn and telling him that he’s going to have to buy a proper suit, “and then... And then my–-”

His voice breaks off, and he looks away, blinking his eyes faster against the pressure behind his eyes.

Blaine tightens his hold on his hand. “Your parents,” he finishes for him, quiet and careful.

Kurt nods. He doesn’t have to say out loud the obvious additions -– _if I knew where they are, if they’re even still alive, if I actually had an address where to send the invitation and a phone number I could call just to hear their excitement_ –- because he knows Blaine can hear them between the lines without him voicing each and every one of them. Blaine’s hand is a comforting weight against his own, like an anchor, and he looks away until he gets his breathing under control again and the pressure behind his eyes lessens to something more tolerable.

“W-what about you?” he asks, a little wetly. “Who w-would you invite?”

Blaine strokes his thumb over the back of his hand again. He stays quiet for a while, obviously thinking as well as giving Kurt a chance to collect himself, and then, when Kurt finally looks back at him, he shrugs.

“Not that many people either. Sam and Tina and the rest of my team. My parents. That’s pretty much it.”

Kurt turns his hand over so he can hold Blaine’s in his in return. “No Cooper?” he asks.

Blaine scoffs, like he does almost every single time someone mentions his brother, but a moment later he sighs, shoulders slumping, and looks down at their joined hands. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I–- I want him there, but with the way things are between us... I don’t know.”

“Would Sam be your best man?” Kurt asks, just to change the subject.

Blaine looks up, his face softening into a smile again. “Yeah. Yeah, he would.”

Kurt smiles as well. “Well, even put together, that does not equal a huge wedding.”

“It does not,” Blaine admits. “I guess it’s a good thing that neither one of us wants a big wedding.”

He leans over the table to plant a soft kiss on Kurt’s lips before sitting down again and taking his utensils. He’s still smiling, almost humming a little under his breath as he pops another piece of chicken into his mouth, and Kurt stares at him, suddenly a little confused by the conversation they just had. These conversations are apparently becoming a thing, but he still doesn’t really know what they’re all about. Are they making actual plans, or just finding out each other’s preferences, or what?

“You’ll be my plus-one to that probie’s huge wedding, though?” Blaine asks after a moment, looking up with a grin.

Kurt drives the confusion away and smiles back at him. “Of course. No place I’d rather be.”

 

\---

 

It definitely becomes a thing after that. Blaine keeps showing Kurt the prettiest wedding announcements he can find in every newspaper he reads, making comments about the choice of words and how he would like his wedding announcement to be phrased. He strokes his fingertips over Kurt’s ring finger whenever they’re walking hand in hand, talks about all the weddings he’s been to, and even jokes about Perry being a ring bearer.

One night when Blaine comes home from work Kurt is sketching clothes in the living room, settled comfortably on their couch, and when Blaine bends down to kiss his head he makes a happy noise in his throat and places his hands on Kurt’s shoulders instead.

“Kurt,” he breathes out, “that suit is gorgeous.”

Kurt glances up in surprise and then looks at the sketch he’s been working on. He likes it himself as well -– it’s simple but still a little eccentric, the lines clear and form-fitting. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking of Blaine when the idea hit him, and that’s probably the reason why the sketch on the paper is a little bit shorter than the models he usually works with are, with wider shoulders and a narrower waist.

“Thanks,” he says, leaning his head back to meet Blaine’s eyes, even if he has to look at them upside down. “Isabelle asked me to come up with a few new ideas for tomorrow’s meeting, since she liked the last sketches I showed her so much.”

“That’s amazing,” Blaine murmurs softly and kisses Kurt’s forehead. “Congrats, honey.”

Kurt smiles. “Food’s in the oven, by the way. It should be ready soon.”

“Thank you,” Blaine sighs. “I promise I’ll cook tomorrow –- this stake-out just came out of nowhere.” He pats Kurt’s shoulders and then steps away. “I’ll go take a shower before dinner. The van left me feeling all stuffy and disgusting again.”

Kurt snorts and focuses back on his sketch. He hears Blaine’s footsteps disappear into the direction of their bedroom and hums a little, shadowing the suit’s waist line a bit more. He kind of wants to get up and join Blaine in the shower, but the food really is going to be ready soon, and the things he wants to do to Blaine won’t be over that quickly. So he just ignores the faint sounds of Blaine stripping his clothes off and tries not to focus on the memories of Blaine’s bare skin under his hands, the way he feels underneath him and above him, the noises he makes and the way he touches Kurt.

He shakes his head, a little flustered, and determinedly adds some more shadowing. He is almost tempted to draw a curly head of dark hair on the sketch -– but if he did, he would probably never hear the end of it from Isabelle. She already thinks he and Blaine are the cutest thing ever. Her words, not his.

“You know,” Blaine calls from the bedroom all of a sudden, “with the right fabric, that suit you’re drawing would be perfect for a wedding. You could even make two of them, with small differences, and they could be matching suits for two grooms.”

Kurt’s pencil skitters to a halt on the paper. His cheeks feel warm all of a sudden. There’s the sound of Blaine closing the bathroom door, and then the distant hum of their shower being turned on. Kurt places his sketch pad on the sofa table and gets up, only making a brief detour to the kitchen to lower the oven temperature and make sure Perry is still sleeping in front of the fridge on his way to their bedroom. Blaine’s clothes are in a neat pile on their bed, and he quickly undresses, placing his own clothes on top of Blaine’s.

Blaine is singing quietly, obviously lost in his thoughts when Kurt steps into the bathroom, and he squeaks in surprise when Kurt suddenly places his hands on his waist.

“Jesus, Kurt, you scared me–-” He turns around, eyes widening and mouth dropping open when he sees Kurt standing before him, wearing absolutely nothing.

“I thought you might like some company?” Kurt teases, trailing his hands lower on Blaine’s wet body.

Blaine swallows, his eyes big and dark. “When it’s your company? Always.”

 

\---

 

Later that night, after dinner and a second round of incredibly satisfying sex, they’re lying on their bed, sweaty and in need of another shower, but neither one of them can be bothered to get up right now. Blaine’s head is resting on Kurt’s chest, his leg flung over Kurt’s thighs and his hand stroking Kurt’s stomach, drawing small patterns over his ribs. Kurt relaxes into the sheets, his limbs loose and tired –- he’s always so content when Blaine is pressed against him like this, their skin touching with nothing in between -– and presses a small kiss on Blaine’s curls. Blaine shifts even closer, and Kurt can feel him smiling against his skin.

“Mmm, this is nice,” Blaine murmurs in a sleepy voice, nuzzling Kurt’s chest. “You’re nice.”

Kurt lets out a laugh, petting Blaine’s back. “Always so eloquent after sex.”

“It’s your fault,” Blaine counters. “You make my brain go all mushy.”

“Love you too,” Kurt sing-songs.

Blaine giggles. He goes quiet after that, breathing slowly against Kurt’s body, his movements stilling. After a few minutes Kurt is pretty sure he has fallen asleep –- which isn’t exactly ideal, since they really should go take that shower now, instead of putting it off until the morning, but he can’t bring himself to move either. So he just cuddles closer to Blaine, feeling calm and happy in a way that’s becoming more and more familiar to him with each day he spends in Blaine’s company without the tracking anklet. With every time he gets to have these moments he thought he would never have.

“I’m so glad we found each other,” Blaine says in a low voice all of a sudden.

Kurt tilts his neck and looks down at him. Blaine’s eyes are closed, eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, but his lips are turned up in a small smile.

“And not just because it means that my mom can finally stop asking me when I’m going to settle down,” Blaine adds, the smile on his face turning wry.

Kurt snorts. “I’m sure your mother is very happy that we found each other as well.”

Blaine hums happily, his eyes still closed. He rubs his face against Kurt’s chest, his stubble scratching the skin, and Kurt moves his own hand from Blaine’s back to his curls, sinking his fingers into them and massaging Blaine’s scalp gently.

“You know,” Blaine goes on, voice full of sleep, “I used to think that I would never find real love. That I would become one of those agents who have nothing else in their life except their work, the ones who are always working on Christmas and the Fourth of July because they have no one to go home to.” He pauses and yawns. “I was on my way there already. Before I met you.”

Kurt can feel his breath hitch in his throat, his fingers twitching against Blaine’s head.

“So I really am so glad that we found each other,” Blaine finishes and smacks his lips sleepily. The next words he says are a quiet exhale, most likely said through the haze of sleep, but still so sure and determined: “You’ve made my life so much... brighter.”

Kurt swallows against the sudden tears in his throat. “You’ve made my life so much brighter too,” he whispers and leans down to kiss Blaine’s head again.

Blaine only hums once more, his breathing evening out –- and suddenly Kurt knows what he wants to do. What he needs to do.

 

\---

 

The apartment is quiet when Blaine comes home, which in itself is unusual -– Kurt’s workdays usually end earlier than Blaine’s, and it’s very rare for him to be home before Kurt. He has become used to coming home to Kurt sketching in the living room, making dinner in the kitchen with the radio on, or just sitting at the dining room table, going through some papers or working on his next column for Vogue.

Perry comes to greet him when he’s shrugging his coat off, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of her mouth. She walks a few circles around Blaine’s legs, butting her head against his thighs, and then stops in front of him, looking up at him with her Labrador smile as if she thinks she deserves a treat for giving him such a nice welcome home.

“Hey, girl,” Blaine coos quietly and reaches down to scratch her behind her ears. “Are you home alone, huh?”

Perry only looks at him, her tail swishing through the air in excitement.

Blaine lifts his head and looks around. All the lights are on, so Kurt must be home already, even if it is suspiciously silent. He pets Perry’s head one last time and then ventures further into the apartment, loosening his tie as he goes and dropping his suitcase on the dining room table.

“Kurt?” he calls out. “Are you in here?”

“Bedroom!”

Blaine sighs in relief. He can’t help it -- quiet apartments have made him imagine the worst ever since he had to come home to one every day for months after Kurt’s sentence was commuted. But these days he can feel a smile twitching at the corners of his lips every evening, just from getting to come home to someone, to _Kurt_ , after a long day of case reports and meetings and even more paperwork. Turns out he very much has a thing for domesticity.

The bedroom door is ajar, and he grabs the handle to push it all the way open, not bothering to knock. He certainly won’t mind if Kurt’s not decent. He would very much appreciate it, in fact.

“I was thinking we could get take-out tonight,” he starts to say, “if that’s-–”

The rest of his sentence gets cut off, and he stops right in the doorway, mouth dropping open as he takes in the sight. Most of the lights in their bedroom have been turned off, but Kurt has placed large candles on their nightstands, creating a low, soft mood lighting that gives the room an even more relaxing and comforting atmosphere. There are fresh flowers in a vase on the dresser –- red and yellow roses, Blaine’s favorites; their scent wafts through the room like a promise of something exquisite –- and right in the middle of the room is Kurt, standing in front of Blaine in a suit that looks exactly like the one Blaine saw him sketching about a week ago, the one that made him think of weddings and rings and _I do_ ’s. Of feeling like the luckiest man in the whole world.

“K-Kurt...” he breathes out, looking around the room but always coming back to Kurt. “What is... What’s all this?”

Kurt smiles and steps forwards, reaching out to take his hands. He looks so handsome, so gorgeous that just looking at him is making Blaine’s heart flutter and tears gather in his eyes, and he squeezes Kurt’s hands, following him into the room.

“I guess I’m just trying to set the right mood,” Kurt says, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Blaine blinks his eyes, still a little dazed. “The right mood for what?”

“For a proposal,” Kurt answers.

Blaine freezes. Inside his chest he can feel his heart skip a beat, or two. Maybe even three or four. “A p-proposal?” he repeats, his voice gone all squeaky.

Kurt smiles and holds his hands securely in his own. “Do you remember how you said a week ago that you’re so glad that we found each other? That you had practically given up on love before we met again, after years of cat-and-mouse and a few more years with prison bars between us?”

Blaine nods, not trusting his voice right now. Of course he remembers it -– it was the same night he saw the suit Kurt is currently wearing for the first time, the same night he just felt so immensely happy and blessed that he had to say it out loud even though he was half-asleep already. It was an ordinary evening, nothing extra special about it, but he just had to try and turn the intense feelings in his heart into sentences that would express even some of the truth, even if it felt like words would never capture the strength and depth of his happiness.

“I know we’ve sort of talked about this before, when I came back,” Kurt goes on, “and lately we’ve had some... general discussions about the topic as well, but that night, when I was holding you and feeling so incredibly lucky –- I realized something.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, they’re shining with something wet. “I realized that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Blaine, and I want the rest of my life to start as soon as possible.”

“Kurt...” Blaine breathes out, his voice breaking.

“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt interrupts him, almost fiercely. “I love you so much, in a way that I thought I would never get to experience and with a strength I never could have predicted. You have made my life so much better, so much brighter and fuller and happier, and-– I had accepted that I would never find real love either, you know; that who I am would always come in the way -– but then you walked into that empty apartment after I’d escaped from prison and you...” He laughs, shaking his head. “You said how I should’ve known that you would find me. Remember?”

Blaine grins, blinking his eyes against the tears in his eyes. “Y-yeah, I do.”

Kurt’s smile softens and he looks straight into his eyes. “And in that moment, when you said those words, I felt so... safe. For the first time in years. Because that’s how you make me feel -– safe and connected and loved, and I-– I wanted to be found. I wanted you to be the one to find me, and everything that has happened since then has been the most wonderful time of my life, and I want that time to continue.” He lifts their joined hands and places them on Blaine’s chest, right above his heart. “I... I want to be there every morning when you wake up, and I want to fall asleep next to you every night. I want to be the one who’s allowed to hold you when you have a bad day at the office, and to share all your successes and good days as well. I want to spend a lifetime with you, Blaine.” He shrugs with a smile. “And I want you to be the one who gets to do the same for me. You and only you.”

Blaine lets out a soft sob and nods, several times just to make sure. “I w-want all of that too, Kurt.”

Kurt laughs, sounding a little choked-up. “Good. That makes this next question a bit easier.”

Slowly he lowers himself to the floor on one knee, keeping his eyes fixed on Blaine. Blaine’s breath hitches in his throat, tears falling freely down his cheeks by now, and his hands are trembling against Kurt’s. Kurt carefully disentangles his other hand and then pulls out a small, dark blue velvet box from his pocket.

“Blaine Anderson,” he says slowly, grinning through his own tears, “my best friend, my one true love and my all-time favorite FBI agent –- will you marry me?”

He pops the box open, and Blaine gasps. They’re the rings -– the rings he has been looking at in the jewelry store window for weeks, months even; the ones he showed to Kurt some time ago and has literally dreamed about wearing with him, the ones they both loved because they’re perfect, they’re exactly what they want.

They’re _theirs_.

“Yes,” he breathes out, “yes, Kurt, yes, of course I will, I love you so much-–”

He falls down on his knees and throws his arms around Kurt’s shoulders, crying and laughing at the same time. Kurt hugs him close, burying his face in Blaine’s hair, and they almost tumble to the floor from the force of it all until Kurt manages to straighten them with a wet laugh.

Blaine pulls back and frames Kurt’s face with his hands before capturing his lips in a searing kiss, pushing as close to him as he can get, and Kurt melts against him, smiling into the kiss. Blaine’s heart feels like it’s about to burst right out of his chest, too full and too light at the same time, and his whole body is trembling, holding on to Kurt with everything he’s got and never wanting to let go.

“I love you,” he whispers desperately, “I love you so much, of course I will marry you, Kurt, of course, that all I’ve ever _wanted_ -–”

The kiss turns into several, Blaine placing small kisses on Kurt’s cheeks and forehead and chin and eyelids, and Kurt only giggles, happy tears falling from his eyes.

“Not that I mind this reaction, but do you want the ring on your finger or not?” he teases.

Blaine kisses him one last time on the lips and then leans back, laughing a bit sheepishly. “Sorry, I just–- I can’t believe you just asked me to _marry_ you. I can’t-–” He rubs his eyes, trying to stop the stubborn tears that keep on coming. “These are good tears, I promise,” he hastens to say, “I’m just so-–”

Kurt stops his hands with a smile. “I know. You’ve been talking about marriage for weeks already, so of course I was going to ask you.”

“I wasn’t doing that to pressure you,” Blaine blurts out, his eyes widening. “I just thought, with everything we talked about when you got back-–”

Kurt shuts him with a kiss and another smile. “I _know_. You weren’t pressuring me, Blaine. I asked because I wanted to ask.” He picks the ring box from the floor where it got dropped during their embrace and wiggles his fingers. “Now. Give me your hand and accept the bling.”

Blaine laughs and extends his left hand towards Kurt, who takes it in his own, glancing up at him with a soft smile. He carefully takes one of the rings from the box –- the one that’s a shade darker than the other –- and slowly slides it on Blaine’s ring finger, stroking his fingertips over it once it reaches home, and to Blaine the touch feels like Kurt is caressing his heart, holding it in his hands with the promise of forever.

The ring looks like something that’s always been missing from his hand, something Blaine has more or less unconsciously been wishing for ever since he was a small boy and realized what love is, and he feels like he’s going to start crying all over again. He’s just so happy. So, _so_ happy. Happier than he has ever been. It’s just so incredible -– to be wearing the ring he’s been dreaming about and to know that Kurt, the person he’s been dreaming about, is the one who put it there. It’s as if he belongs to Kurt, in the best possible way, in the way he has always longed to belong to someone.

It feels like he’s finally come home for good.

Kurt lifts his hand to cup Blaine’s face, brushing the tear tracks away with his thumb. He’s smiling so tenderly, as if Blaine is the most beautiful man he has ever seen, and his eyes are so full of love and wonder that it’s enough to make Blaine feel completely breathless and amazed by the fact that he gets to have him in his life.

He leans into Kurt’s touch, closing his eyes for a moment, and then gestures at the second ring in the box. “May I?” he asks with a grin.

Kurt lets out a laugh and wipes his own tears away with the sleeve of his jacket. “Yes, you silly. Of course you may.”

Blaine smiles and takes the ring from the box. He slides it gently on Kurt’s finger, feeling his heart expanding inside his chest. He turns the ring around a few times when he’s done, just to make sure it fits, and stares at the way the silver glints in the low lighting of the room, what it looks like against the pale tone of Kurt’s skin. Kurt slowly laces their fingers together and then leans in to kiss Blaine, soft and sweet and lingering.

“I love you,” he whispers against Blaine’s lips.

“I love you too,” Blaine answers and nuzzles Kurt’s cheek. “I always will.”

Kurt’s eyes twinkle. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me for real now, fiancé. No turning back.”

Blaine grins and kisses him again. He can’t seem to stop touching or kissing Kurt, and he doesn’t think that’s going to change any time soon.

“I’m okay with that,” he replies.

(They stay like that, holding each other and smiling so widely that their cheeks start to hurt, until Perry trots into the room a few minutes later. She immediately moves closer and licks at their faces, effectively ruining the moment.

But it’s okay. They’ll have new moments. With and without dog drool.)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that one line was a reference to _When Harry Met Sally_. :D
> 
> Title is from Jess Glynne's _Hold My Hand_ \-- go listen to it, it's a lovely, upbeat song!
> 
> The rings are based on [the rings Kurt and Blaine had in canon](https://40.media.tumblr.com/628f4cd1cd50be70fdee75d95ef3d3f2/tumblr_nsb8it91ey1qg1h16o1_500.png).
> 
> Thank you for reading -- please leave a comment if you enjoyed this one!


End file.
